The Way It Is
by MissScaryKitty
Summary: How does Anton Chigurh get his arm fixed and how does he repay the person who helps him? There's only ever one way... Rated M for slight gore.


AN- I tried to make this as close to McCarthy's style as possible so if you haven't read any of his books then be aware that grammar, punctuation and speech patterns are different from typical writing. Also note that Chigurh speaks far more in the novel than he does in the movie, however I kept it a median between the two. Also I do not own NCFOM

**The Way It Is**

The ground was baking in the dry heat of the late afternoon. Hot wind blew across the small county scattering loose, dried earth across lawns, roads and porches. It was one of those winds which moved then settled then moved again, like a man's breathing. It wasn't a strong breath, it was the breath of a man about to expire; hot, dry, and labored.

The county was filled with gritty orange dirt which settled onto everything. The color stained the white trim of the houses and powdered the pavement and scrub-like foliage.

Chigurh slowly drove through the wind-beaten weather-worn town. Coming up on his destination he cautiously stepped down from his truck and limped to the the low chain link fence that surrounded the perimeter of the front yard. The grass on the other side was yellowed and dead; an old sun-worn maroon car was parked on the concrete drive. The house itself looked lived in. Not taken care of, just lived in. Orange dirt was caked on the bottom rim of the walls. The white paint on the house was cracked from years of living through harsh summer heat. Pushing open the flimsy gate he made his way through the yard; the metal of the rusty springs squealed sharply as the gate shut behind him with a clap.

Chigurh approached the porch. Dots of blood fell from his injured arm and soaked in the concrete and the dirt as he limped along. The wet blood trail began to dry with the heat, taking all the freshness off of it. He knocked once on the door. It was heavy enough that only a single bang would suffice. He rubbed the tips of his fingers against the wood grain as he waited. Coming across a loose flake of paint on the door he chipped it off and let it fall onto the worn out welcome mat. He was beginning to lose patience standing there.

The door swung open with some force behind the pull revealing a thin, pale woman standing in the doorway. She regarded him with tired eyes and a dull expression.

Yes? She said, her eyes squinting from exposure to the daylight. The inside of the house was dark. All the shades were pulled closed.

You are Mille Townsend? Chigurh asked his tone authoritative.

Yes, who's askin'? The woman said putting her hand on her hip. She assumed he was some sort of lawman.

I am, he simply replied. The woman's eyes fully adjusted to the light. That was when noticed his bloody arm.

Jesus Christ… she breathed as she looked at the man's arm wrapped in a blood soaked shirt then at his bloodied forehead. How can you still be standin'?

Chigurh was silent as he regarded her with an emotionless stare. The woman fingered the brass door knob nervously as she took in the situation.

Well come in before anyone sees you. She quickly stepped aside to let the man pass through the doorway. Shutting the door behind her she slid the chain lock in place. You could be gittin' me into a real jackpot showin' up on my doorstep like this you know. Authorities have been getting suspicious lately.

Doubtful, Chigurh said as he stood in the middle of the dark living room.

Who are you to talk?

Nobody, and then again perhaps not.

Milles' brow furrowed at the strange response then decided to pay it no mind. I hope you have cash on you. I usually don't take walk-ins.

The man was silent causing Millie to stop and look at him.

I can pay, he told her.

Alright then. Come on into the kitchen, it'll be easier that way.

Anton watched the small woman enter the kitchen then followed. The blood leaking from the fabric of his sling made a light tapping noise as it hit the linoleum. It sounded like a dripping sink. Milly poured the man a tall glass of water from a pitcher she had sitting on the counter and held it out for him. The dark man didn't take it. Her eyebrows arched slightly as she awkwardly made her way past him and gingerly set the glass on the broad kitchen table behind him.

I'll just set this here for you then.

Standing in front of him again she was slowly beginning to realize what kind of a man she had let in her home. His eyes were feral, more like a predator than a man. His true nature was loosely hidden behind a thin veil of composure that she was seeing now. She could not put a finger on what he was exactly; only that what was lying behind those eyes wasn't natural in any human she had ever come across.

She carefully reached out to lift his arm from the sling but Chigurh stopped her by doing it himself. Blood dribbled onto the floor as the makeshift sling tipped downwards. She sucked in a cold breath at the sight.

My God, that don't look good at all, she whispered as she stared at the mangled arm Chigurh gingerly held in his hand. It looks like it's broken in two places. Yer gonna need a lot of morphine to numb the pain, she said turning around to pull some things out of the refrigerator. Set yourself down on the table then.

Chigurh glanced back at the table then regarded her with a slight tilt of his head, as if he were sizing her up. She could not see him do this as she reached to pull some anesthetics from the very back of the fridge. He then carefully sat down on her kitchen table. The old stained pine creaked beneath him as he pushed himself back to the center of it.

You've done many surgeries? He asked.

Yes.

Are you really a doctor?

No, she said grabbing some unlabeled glass bottles out of the fridge, I studied as a doctor; never made it past med school.

You studied, never practiced? Did they throw you out?

I ran out of money.

No you didn't.

What?

You quit.

No, I didn't have the money to finish.

You could have found a way; other people do. You quit. It's that simple.

Whatever you say, she told him. Anyways it don't seem to make a difference to you anyhow.

What makes you say that?

You still here aint you?

That doesn't mean anything. I came here out of necessity. What makes you think it doesn't make a difference to me? It could mean a world of difference to me and you would never know. Not unless I told you.

Well I think that speech there was tellin' enough.

Perhaps, but as I said you would never really know unless I told you.

Fine, she said turning around and pulling out a drawer that had her medical instruments inside it. Grabbing the things she needed she placed them on a tray on the counter. She took the lid off one of the jars with antiseptic and began cleaning the instruments. Pausing in her work she then posed the inevitable question.

So who are you anyways?

Who I am is none of your affair.

Isn't it?

No it's not.

Fine, she said again ending the conversation. How'd you find out about me?

A friend, he said as he recalled searching through Wells' wallet in his hotel room; Wells' head half shot off. A scrap of paper had her name and address on it underneath was the abbreviation 'Doc'. He had kept all the contents of the wallet. He found the scrap of paper to be useful as he was limping away from the car crash. He was lucky to find that the woman lived just outside of Odessa.

Usually he would have done the procedure himself however he could not do this one alone and be able to do it right. Both bones were broken, one was completely snapped in half and he suspected there might be some damage to the tendons. Pharmacies didn't sell the things he needed to get the job done correctly. Although Millie Townsend was an illegal practitioner he knew she'd know what to do or at least have the things he needed to properly repair his arm.

Alright, I'm gonna hook you up to a morphine drip then I'll put you under, she said readying the needle to stick in his arm.

I want to be awake, he said.

With all due respect sir, I really don't think you do. It's not something you wanna watch.

I'm not going to go under, he simply told her.

Alright, she nodded. But at least let me hook you up to a morphine drip.

That's fine.

Her fingers were cold on his arm as she slid the needle in his vein with ease. She taped down the tube that connected him to the bag of morphine on his forearm and turned on the drip. As she touched him with her icy hands Chigurh noticed her fingernails were cut short to enable her to perform medical procedures.

She then slipped on a pair of blue, latex medical gloves and injected some extra fluids into the area around his wounds and waited for the medicine to take effect. She began to disinfect the wound as on his forehead as she did.

This is going to need stitches, she told him as she lightly felt around the area of his head wound. Holding back his hair she investigated how far the gash went up into the hairline, dabbing disinfectant on it with a cotton swab as she went along. Chigurh sat on the table, he was still and silent. He was unsure if it bothered him that she was touching him or not. No matter the conclusion he came to he still said nothing to her. After a while she began to work on his arm.

Chigurh watched as she cut open his skin in the areas surrounding the exposed bone. She slowly eased the bone from its position atop his torn skin and carefully maneuvered it under his flesh. Her small fingers reached into his warm blood-soaked skin and he felt only a mere prodding due to the drip he was attached to. He watched her face as she did this. She showed no emotion, her expression was completely concentrated in her work as she dabbed the blood from his exposed meat that obscured her view. A bit of his blood smeared across the smooth skin of her cheekbone as she pushed rectangular framed glasses up the bridge of her nose. All the while Chigurh sat on the table completely still, unfazed by the procedure but curious at the same time.

Millie felt the hot, humid air from his exhalations blow on the top of her forehead as she worked. He didn't speak and his pattern of breathing stayed perfectly calm and even. Something he had told her earlier ran over and over again in her mind. Worry and fear took root in her stomach and started to bloom. She concentrated intensely on the task before her suppressing the thought that wanted to push itself to the forefront in her mind.

Once she was done sewing him up, she set his arm in a white cast.

You can take the stitches out yourself she told him, motioning to his head. This was the first time one of them spoke in hours. Chigurh stayed silent. He pushed himself off the table.

I'm going to get something from my car, he told her as he made his way to the door. She watched nervously as he let himself out. Part of her wished that he'd just take off and not pay her. Hearing the door close she went to work cleaning the bloody mess up. After tossing the instruments into the sink to be washed she stripped off her gloves and ran her fingers through her hair. Sucking in a deep breath she grabbed the jars of morphine and saline from the table and set them back in the refrigerator, her mind nagging at her all the while. Millie felt almost sick. She heard the front door open and close again from behind her. Closing the door of the fridge and turning around she found Chigurh only five feet away from her pointing a large pistol at her chest. Millie's heart dropped at the sight. She stood there looking at him.

I didn't give you any reason to make you do this, she finally told him. Her voice was quiet.

I don't need one. You already decided your fate.

Her large eyes widened in fear, what makes you say that?

Look at yourself. This place, this life you've made. Living in the shadow of your failure. It was only a matter of time till it caught up with you. Your path was set by the choices you made. It could only lead to one common ending. This is it.

She was silent.

We're all dying a little everyday you are no different. It's hard to see it that way but there it is. So in the end, what does it matter if today is that day?

Because I don't want it to be, she said weakly.

What makes you think you get to choose? There is only one way this can end.

No there isn't. You don't have to kill me.

That is a common misconception. I cannot second say the world.

He said you's was insane, she breathed, tears finally running down her face. That you was not human.

Wells.

She nodded, he told me about you.

Chigurh grinned in slight amusement, and what did he say?

She looked into his dark eyes, that there was somethin' missin' in you.

Chigurh only nodded.

What happened to him? She asked, her throat now dry.

He's gone.

Millie just stood there trying to grasp how the association with a man she barely knew who now was dead could lead to this. This was all Wells' fault. Of only she hadn't of known him, if only he hadn't of gotten himself killed then she would have been safe. All of it made sense but none of it seemed fair.

I figured out who you were when you wouldn't tell me your name, she said. That's when I knew I was stuck.

But you didn't see this coming did you?

No, I didn't. I spose I should have.

Chigurh nodded, yes you should have.

Please don't hurt me.

Why not?

Because I didn't do nothin' to you, she reasoned. I helped you.

Yes, for money.

You can't put it like that.

There is no other way to put it. That's how it is, he said.

That's not fair.

I don't see how it isn't.

I'm just makin' a living. It's not fair how you're twistin' things around like that. I didn't do anything to deserve this.

Chigurh then spoke, perhaps not. Perhaps it was just bad luck. Either way it still doesn't change anything.

Why not? I won't say anything to no one about you I promise.

I'm sorry, but it's a risk I cannot take.

He thumbed the hammer back on his gun.

Please don't. You don't have to do this.

As I said before, you've been dying a little every day. It has to end like this.

But that's not right.

Yes it is.

The gunshot was a mere clip against the air. The silencer muffled the noise. He stood there and watched her die. She looked up at him, pain written on her face and look in her eyes as if she were asking 'why'. As if she knew the crime she had committed yet still didn't understand why he was making her pay for it.

Hot blood poured from the hole in her chest. It cooled upon hitting the air as it quickly dripped down and pooled on the floor. A final breath expired from her open lips as she crumpled to the ground in a curled up position. If it wasn't for the blood it would have looked almost as if she were sleeping. Her arm and leg twitched once then twice then remained still.

Chigurh wiped a few blood drops from his face with his open hand as he gazed down at Millie. Her blood gradually spread out around her and he had to step back to avoid getting blood on the soles of his boots. He watched her for a moment longer then turned and left the house.


End file.
